Black Friday by William W. Johnstone

the American’s throat to choke off any outcry.
    Habib rammed his weight into the man and forced him back against the wall. The man’s skull thudded hard against the wall, but it was unlikely he felt much of the impact because he was already dying. His eyes bulged and his mouth hung open.
    Habib’s knife hand pressed against his chest. Every bit of the blade was buried inside the American’s body.
    Habib twisted it and took savage pleasure in the action. Given better circumstances, he would have preferred to slit the American’s throat and let him bleed to death, or even more satisfying, drive the knife into his belly and rip it from side to side, creating a huge, gaping wound through which the man’s entrails would spill.
    It would have been nice, seeing the American staring in horror at his own guts before he died.
    But right now, killing this man quickly and silently was best, Habib knew.
    Later, there would be plenty of time for him to luxuriate in watching Americans die.

Chapter 15
    T obey hadn’t planned to get distracted, but it was difficult not to once he was in the sprawling sporting goods store that was one of the mall’s anchors. There was just so much to look at.
    The store carried every sort of camping equipment anybody could ever need, a vast array of fishing gear, bows and arrows, exercise apparatus, balls, bats, nets, shoes, boots, waders, camo clothing, trail mix, granola, water purifiers, and around the outside walls were dozens of glass-fronted cases filled with edged weapons and guns.
    Bowie knives, skinning knives, axes, hatchets, and personal defense blades. Revolvers, semi-autos, shotguns, hunting rifles, AR-15s, replicas of famous guns from the Colt .45 Peacemaker to the Winchester ’73 and the Sharps Big Fifty. Calibers from .22 on up. Shelves and shelves of boxed ammunition.
    For a guy like Tobey, it was a little slice of heaven.
    In the meantime, he knew he needed to get over to the jewelry store and buy Ashley’s engagement ring, but he found himself looking at a display of beautifully made 1911s and had trouble tearing himself away.
    The guy working behind this section of counter came over to him and said, “The classic, iconic handgun of the twentieth century, just like the Peacemaker was the classic of the nineteenth.”
    â€œYou’ll get no argument about either of those things from me, amigo,” Tobey said.
    â€œYou want a closer look at any of them?”
    Tobey looked at the prices on the guns, sighed, and shook his head. He had enough money for that ring, but not if he spent it on some fancy 1911.
    â€œNo, I guess not,” he said regretfully.
    â€œCome on,” the salesman urged. “What are you gonna spend it on that’s nicer than one of these babies?”
    Tobey thought about Ashley. Guns were nice, but he was in love with her and always would be.
    â€œI’ve got something in mind,” he said. “Sorry.”
    â€œWell, come on back any time. We’ll be here.”
    Tobey nodded and turned to head for the jewelry store, where he planned to spend the money he’d saved on the true love of his life.
    * * *
    Habib had stopped Dave Dixon’s heart so quickly that when he withdrew the blade from the wound, only a small amount of blood welled out to stain the American’s uniform shirt.
    Carefully, Habib lowered the body to the floor, sliding it down the wall until Dixon was in a sitting position. Habib wiped the blood from the knife with the inside of the man’s jacket, then put the weapon away.
    He had to move quickly now. One of the mall’s maintenance workers could come in and ruin everything, as the guard almost had.
    Habib started moving the stacks of crates around. He needed to create an open space big enough that Dixon’s corpse would fit into it. Once he had done that, he could move the crates back in front of the dead man to hide the grim sight.
    Urgency nibbled at the edges